


He Who Shines

by withyouandthemoon



Category: The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, Carenzo Fake Marriage, Dragon!Caroline, F/M, carenzo BrOTP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 21:24:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13621953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withyouandthemoon/pseuds/withyouandthemoon
Summary: A mysterious lady caught Klaus' eyes (and maybe his heart) at the Mikaelson ball. Then he found out that she had a husband. But Klaus was not about to quit just yet. And neither was the lady (or her husband, but for different reasons). What will happen after that?





	He Who Shines

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LynyrdLionheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LynyrdLionheart/gifts).



> For Lynyrd who gave me this wonderful prompt about a Regency AU with a dragon in it. And Carenzo BrOTP. These were all elements that I hadn't worked with before so I was very excited to try my hand at this. Hope you like it!  
> I apologize in advance for any historical incongruity or anachronism.  
> Anything that feels made-up probably is made-up. Especially the title of the Mikaelson family, as you will see right at the start. (But hopefully nothing a little Google Translate or Wiktionary can't solve.)  
> Also, for my own writing convenience, I did not include Finn in this. So if you are a fan of his, please forgive me for that.  
> Okay, that's about it. Enjoy!

Klaus stood rigidly at the bottom of the ball room, trying to keep a straight face-he had never been partial to these social occasions, but as a member of the host family, he could at least make an effort to not “spoil the spirits of the guests with his evident boredom” as so aptly put by his mother, Lady Esther Leyndarvatn, widow of the newly-deceased Lord Leyndarvatn.

The thought put a cold smirk on his face. Not so newly-deceased now, as they were all flitting around in colorful evening attires in the ballroom of his family’s country estate in the north. It had already been over a year since Mikael-yes, that is what Klaus disrespectfully called him in his heart-passed away from pneumonia. It only seemed fair that a man so prideful of his own power and ability should wither away pathetically in the slowly-closing claws of such a common disease. To grow so thin and frail that a single cough racked his once iron-strong bones and the remaining cruelty in his sunken eyes could no longer belie the fear that was seeping through.

Klaus wondered what that wretched man would have felt if he had known that everyone would just carry on like nothing happened in his absence. If anything, the lights seemed brighter, the music louder, and the steps of all those dancing couples more brisk and daring. Would he roll around in his dark grave knowing all this? His bare bones, flesh all rotten away, rattling desperately in the confines of wood and dirt, with not a soul to scare for they were all here, wasting away yet another night in meaningless dancing and flirting?

Klaus hoped he suffered from these poisonous thoughts. Even in death.

He inwardly groaned as he caught his sister, Lady Rebekah Mikaelson, sending a surreptitious glare his way in the middle of her dancing with some simpleton with the rustiest dance moves he had ever seen. Not to mention those disgusting yellow teeth. He didn’t know how Rebekah could stand these sad excuses of human beings, and he certainly intended to ignore her silent request of his interacting with the likes of them.

Klaus idly looked around the ballroom. He could see his mother conversing with some of the older ladies by the window, and his younger brother Kol hovering over a brunette, his hand reaching out to the back of the lady’s dress where no one in the room could detect his misdeed-save for the sudden crimson color of the young lady’s face. He had yet caught sight of his older brother Elijah, the now rightful Earl of Leyndarvatn, who was no doubt entertaining the married ladies as was his responsibility as the host.

That was the thing about balls. You had to aim to appear effortless and elegant, with everything going off smoothly without a hitch, but in reality it was always just a polished farce wrapped in expensive silk and diamonds. Underneath the grandeur was the thousands of trivialities, and underneath the gentility the ever-present awkwardness and vexation. The whitest cravat stained on the inside with excessive sweating, the barely concealed limp from a clumsy partner and an injured toe, the need to blink away tears when just a few wisps of your hair were caught in the back of the collar while dancing, the abrupt change of topic to cover a laugh just a pitch too high.

Klaus’ smirk of contempt froze on his face when he spot his brother, or more precisely, the lady talking with him.

Her dress was in no way too flashy but no less extravagant, form-fitting in a subtle way. The long white slip was paired with a pale blue crape dress cut open in the front, accentuating her height while revealing her beautiful natural curves. The two halves were linked in the front with bands of pearls suspended loosely at distances like a glowing little waterfall. Her slender arms poured out of the short sleeves like the richest milk and her long neck was adorned with a diamond necklace. But all her glistening attires and accessories could not compare with her luscious blonde hair, which is pulled up in the back, leaving golden ringlets framing her face.

It was a shame that said face was currently blocked by the form of his brother, and Klaus suffered from a sudden urge to act on his impulse and drag his lordship aside so as to drink in every feature of her surely exquisite visage.

“You would do well to close your mouth right this second or the rumor of your uncontrollable drooling will be household knowledge by the end of the ball.” Instead he was dragged out of his own thoughts by the taunting whisper of his sister, “it is no unforgivable trait, of course, but it doesn’t exactly put you in the good graces of the ladies either.”

“Why, Lady Rebekah,” Klaus turned around to offer Rebekah a cheeky grin, “I see you have managed to escape your own suitor with no _unforgivable trait_. Sure his breath may stink a little, and he may dance like a poor man possessed by a windmill, but he is the Marquis.”

“ _The Marquis_ ,” Rebekah bit out with a tight smile, “is a kind and honorable man. He has certainly been more agreeable than you this whole evening.”

Klaus shrugged, “I am sure. Sadly we are not all of us born into this agreeableness that you speak so highly of.”

Rebekah secretly rolled her eyes, “quit being all bitter, Niklaus, and do employ your time with something more productive. You should be attending to all those eligible young ladies out there.”

“And let them weigh my worth in their calculating little minds? Working tooth and nail to win their affection so as to secure myself an acceptable future?” Klaus raised an eyebrow at Rebekah, “like you?”

For a second Rebekah looked hurt, the corner of her lips contorting into a trembling angle, but the next moment she looked Klaus square in the eyes, her voice low but harsh, “yes, like me. We sell ourselves to the highest bidder or we end up with only soup on our tables and wormholes in our clothes, always feeling lesser.”

Klaus glared at her, his tone ice cold, “You do not have to remind me that father left me nothing in his will, little sister. I know more than anyone I am the bastard son that he loathed. I am reminded every minute when I so shamelessly reside in the dwellings that he, in his last words, strictly forbade me from ever setting foot on.”

“Hush!” Rebekah tugged at his sleeve hastily, “no one knows except those present at the will reading, and it best stays that way.”

Klaus scowled at her. Mikael had been the master puppeteer in revealing in his will the dirty secret that Niklaus was, in fact, the result of an affair between Lady Leyndarvatn and another man. All his life Klaus lived under the degrading words and merciless beatings of his supposed father, being none the wiser, and just when he thought he may be free for once he was pushed into another cage.

 _A farewell slap in the face_ , as Klaus had come to call it in his own head.

He did not know if he would have liked to be in on the secret from the day he could remember anything, or be kept in oblivion for as long as he lived. Just like he did not know whether he wanted to shout out the secret at the top of his lungs for all to know, or bury it along with Mikael’s ugly corpse. It was a never-ending tug-of-war in his mind these days.

His brother was kind enough to disregard Mikael’s words about turning Klaus out of their family home as delirious talking. It took him more than a week to persuade Klaus to stay. But now everywhere he went in the estate he saw Mikael’s shadow in the corner of his eyes, like the ghost of King Hamlet. Though instead of asking Klaus to avenge him, the ghost merely sneered and looked on from the side.

However scorching his fury was, Klaus knew he had no chance battling a ghost. He was again left with no choice but to wear the defeat as his besmirched skin, as the air that surrounded him and the manner in which he carried himself.

Rebekah, however, did not share his pensive mood, “I am not reminding you of anything whatsoever. I am beseeching you to have some sense. It would not hurt anyone if you would just deign to talk to some of the ladies.” She gestured inconspicuously with her chin towards the dance floor, “how about one of the Petrova sisters? Indeed their family became wealthy through trades but at least they are not hard to look at.”

“All Petrovas are vying for the affection of Lord Leyndarvatn, I am afraid, including Mr. Petrov.” Klaus replied absently, his eyes swiftly flitting through the dance floor to the side, spotting the lady he had seen earlier, who was now speaking with another dark-haired gentleman, her face still blocked from his sight, “you should have seen him trying to compliment his lordship on his dress tonight. It was most disconcerting.”

Rebekah snorted a laugh, “I am utterly relieved to have missed that. Then how about Lady Camille O’Connell? Her brother passed away so the inheritance will probably go to her uncle, but it is said that her mother brought into the marriage quite a fortune.”

The lady in blue was now putting her arm on the man next to her, and quite comfortably in Klaus’ observation. An unbidden bout of jealousy pierced through his heart and Klaus had to laugh inwardly at the sour ache. To be jealous over a lady he had yet seen the face of? That was unfathomable even to him. But then again, her diamond eardrops were dangling so happily among the golden tendrils of her hair and Klaus could almost see her laughter in their dancing gleam. And what a beautiful laugh it was.

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Yes, of course I am. And I think my silence can perfectly suffice for an answer to your suggestion of Lady Camille.”

Rebekah huffed, “just be grateful I am not sharing your delightful insights with other ladies. If I ever did, all the charms in the world would not save you from being shunned by every one of them.”

“You say that like it is the most dreadful thing.” Klaus watched as the lady in blue tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, baring her perfect earlobe. He longed to tuck the hair for her, to see the blush rise up her pale skin when his finger accidentally brushed the back of her ear. The man talking to her was now walking away, and her back was turned to him as she saw him off.

“It could be,” Rebekah drawled, something calculating in her voice, “if the one shunning you happens to be the one you cannot stop staring at.”

His head jerked back at her, taken by surprise, but he soon realized his slip and feigned nonchalance, “I was merely curious. I do not recognize her.”

“I am sure you will get acquainted with her quite soon, one way or another.” Rebekah smirked, “but from the goodness of my heart I will spare you the trouble of asking around.” The edges of her grin turned a bit sharp and a sinister feeling crept up Klaus’ spine, “ _that_ is Lady Augustins, wife of the Baron of Augustins, whom she was just so intimately chatting with.”

Klaus swallowed hard as his heart sank, and for a moment it felt almost like he was gorging down his own treacherous heart, painfully and ignorantly, with dire consequences.

He had been with a lot of women, and it never deterred him if some of them were bound by wedlock. So what if they had to cover their faces with veils and the darkness of the night? Wear capes to conceal the dirt and leaves they got on their flimsy dresses? Hug their fools of husbands with the sweat he worked them into? Everyone suspected something but no one dared speak it out loud. The tragedy and absurdity of it all.

But to think about involving with _her_ in such a manner put a sick twitch to his stomach.

He could not help but look back in her direction, and his breath was instantly taken away when this time, he was met with her eyes. Her heartbreakingly blue eyes. He would not say that the lady in blue-nay, _Lady Augustins_ -was more handsome than his imagination, even if he was not aware that he was imagining. However, she beat his poor imagination in that she was glowing with her realness. Where his mind’s portrayal had presumed with the perfect jaw line, she showed the round cheeks like fruits ripe in the warm August sun; where he had put in thick brows, she took his attention by a single expressive flash of her long eyelashes; where he had pictured porcelain skin, she possessed the tiniest of freckles just waiting to be kissed.

She exuded light, warmth, and _life_. And his whole imagination melted away when her rosy lips curled into a knowing smile. _She had known he was looking at her this whole time but she was smiling at him_.

Like a man hearing the songs of sirens, Klaus followed Lady Augustins as she turned around to exit the ball room, without a second thought, regardless of whatever Rebekah was still saying to him, the memory of her blinding smile the one thing guiding his sunken heart back midair, stranded, and fluttering.

* * *

The breath of plants and earth was damp on his skin as Klaus wandered through the vast garden. The sound of crowd and music remained but a floating hint in the air, like a lingering but vague dream as you came to your consciousness in a half-sleep state. He, too, felt like a man trudging through dream land, unsure of his true destination at this point.

He had somehow lost track of Lady Augustins. She had long since disappeared from his sight, and the only things guiding Klaus through the darkness was his keen sense of instinct and the fringe of her gown turning to this direction from afar.

The gravels in the narrow path were lit up by the full moon high above his head and the cold, silver light crunched at his feet. For once in his life the silence of the garden at nighttime actually soothed him, with small expectations bubbling through. When he was young the shadows were filled with the vengeful delight of rebellion and the underlying fear of Mikael’s wrath when he found him missing from whatever social occasion they were attending at the moment. When he got older the peaceful views were contorted by the thrills of the nameless trysts and sadly, still, the dread of Mikael and the pain he might induce.

It was never like this. He was never _enjoying himself_ like this, as if it would not have mattered if he did not find the lady that was calling to his heart.

But as soon as that thought passed the back of his mind he found her from the corner of his eye.

She was standing by a blossoming rose bush at the entrance of the garden maze, her dark blue shawl slightly brushing against the tiny leaves, the soft fabric whispering sweet nonsense to the awaiting plant. The scent of roses seemed stronger in her presence, like the poor flowers were eagerly vying for her attention. But still, she bent a little and leaned forward to a single flower-one only half blossoming, its petals nervously drawing in to the dark red center.

Klaus watched intently as she held out a hand just under the rose in a gentle cupping gesture, but not actually touching it. She tentatively took a shallow whiff, and immediately tilted her head to the side as if to make sure that her breath did not hurt the delicate flower. Then finally, she half closed her eyes and slowly drew a long, deep breath, her eyelashes trembling against her cheekbones as a smile of pure joy tinted her lips.

The whole scene was utterly mesmerizing and Klaus nearly forgot to breathe if not for the soft but playful voice bringing him out of his trance, “it is not my place to remind you of certain manners, seeing as we have yet been properly introduced. But even if I were merely talking to myself, I would state that it is impolite to stare without announcing one’s presence.”

“My sincere apologies, my lady.” Klaus cleared his throat, “it was never my intention to offend you with my rude behavior. But in my defense I simply forgot myself because of your unparalleled beauty and elegance.”

“So you are implying that I should take the blame for your breaching of the common decorum?”

“On the contrary, I was stating every reason that I am willing to take any blame for you.”

The chuckle she let out at his words melted his heart-that was, if there were still anything left to be melted. In fact, from the moment that Lady Augustins opened her mouth Klaus felt like his insides were turning into liquid and he was but thrumming veins of hot emotions. She was still standing with her side to him, but Klaus could see the mischievous glint in her eyes as she replied, “does that include my misstep of talking to a stranger?”

Klaus smirked, “I beg to differ, my lady. I would hardly call myself a stranger.”

“And why, pray tell, is that?”

She was finally turning to face him, and Klaus had to pause a second to collect himself at the sight of her flawless face before answering, “Lady Rose there,” he gestured at the rose she was just smelling, “is quite an upstanding and accomplished figure. I was honored to make her acquaintance earlier in the day, and I believe she was telling you some nice things about yours truly seconds ago.”

Lady Augustins clasped her gloved hands in front of herself and lifted an eyebrow, giving him a challenging look, “despite my fondness of their house, I am afraid I do not speak their tongue very well. So would you kindly translate Lady Rose’s scintillating words for me, Mr. Hardly-A-Stranger?”

Stepping closer until they were face to face, Klaus breathed out a laugh, “I dare not claim myself an expert, either. But if I was not mistaken she was saying that this young man standing before you is named Niklaus Mikaelson. That he may never recover from the impact of seeing your beautiful face, and that if you ever felt a sliver of mercy on him, you would grant him your lovely name to soothe a man’s parched soul.”

“I imagined you to be shameless enough as to brag about yourself when given the chance,” Lady Augustins snorted, but smile was still clear in her eyes, “but even my imagination could not have reached this level of shamelessness.”

“Oh, believe me my lady, I feel every bit of the shame. But a man is always emboldened by the admiration for a lady.”

“Forgive me, Mr. Mikaelson, when I say that in my experiences men are more often than not emboldened by their own egos, and yet they use ladies as an excuse for their boldness, which ironically enough, makes them exactly the opposite of what they claim to be.”

“True as that observation may be,” Klaus grinned as he reached around her and plucked a pale pink rose from the side of the bush, his arm dangerously close to her waist. Picking out the tiny thorns from the stem he continued, “I cannot help but be curious. Do I count as one of the average men who supplied yet another evidence to your induction, or does my _boldness_ ,” he put the rose into her hair, his eyes searching hers for any anger or discomfort, but finding none, “spur yours?”

Lady Augustins reached up to tenderly touch the flower in her hair, the azure blue of her eyes glimmering, “you may well surprise me yet, Mr. Mikaelson.” And all of a sudden her face broke into an unreadable smile, “but it is my belief that all righteous courage should be rewarded, which is why I am now allowing you to learn my name. It is Caroline.”

“I can honestly say that I have never met anyone more befitting of the name.” His voice was raspy and restrained, an itch tickling from the bottom of his heart.

Lady Augustins- _Caroline_ -seemed to have seen right through him. Her gaze grew more intent, as if daring him to run that melodious name between his lips and let its vibrations graze his throat, even if they both knew how imprudent it would be for him to call out the first name of a married woman. But still, he mouthed the name silently, caressing each syllable with his flesh and bones, squinting at her when the tip of his tongue made the inevitable contact with his palate, watching on with triumph as a slight shiver rippled through her body.

But she regained her composure soon, chuckling softly as she turned slightly to the side, looking into the long dark lanes of the maze, “Lorenzo always said that it cannot do me justice, for it is a name too common and bland to stand out. According to his lordship I should be named with something much more…scandalous.”

It was not hard to deduce who “Lorenzo” was and it threw Klaus a little that Caroline would call her husband by his first name while conversing with another. The familiarity and intimacy of her tone burned him unexpectedly that it took him a while to register the content of her words, “I know it is wrong of me to accuse Lord Augustins of anything, but how could he possibly say things like that about his own wife?”

Contrary to his indignation, Caroline’s chuckle only grew louder, amusement clear on her face, “oh pray do not fret, Mr. Mikaelson. It is but a private joke between us with no ill implication to my dignity. You see, Lorenzo and I have known each other for many years, long before we became the couple as everyone saw us. He understood my disparagement of the hypocritical rules of society, but he could not resist the temptation of making some harmless fun of me whenever the opportunity arose.”

Klaus was befuddled to say the least. He had always prided himself in being able to read women, and he would not hesitate to say that the feelings Caroline harbored for him were not a figment of his imagination. But in his years of being an unapologetic Lothario Klaus gathered one thing: women looking for an affair with him did not wish to speak about their husbands. And on the rare occasions that they did, their tone was never affectionate like Caroline’s.

Even his own mother did not speak of Mikael that way. Her voice was always too serious and heavy when it came to matters concerning the lord of the house, sometimes with more reverence, sometimes more fear, but never with this…this amiable closeness. It was almost friend-like to the ears of an outsider, a special bond that his parents never reached from Klaus’ standpoint.

But suddenly it dawned on him that his mother was one of _those women_. She could be the one sneaking out of a ball, knowing full well that a man she had barely known was following behind. She could be the one giving out her first name and let flowers be put in her hair. Would she have said anything, anything at all, about her husband? Would she talk about Mikael with the disdain that Klaus himself employed, or would she dismiss him indifferently with a slight frown, like she later did with Klaus?

His heart was instantly torn to pieces, from the acid of jealousy, the fire of rage, and the icy coldness of what could have happened, or rather, could have _never_ happened.

But what came out of his mouth was devoid of emotions, “so you are a woman who likes to play against the rules?”

Caroline reached out to caress the thick hedges that formed the outer wall of the maze, “it would be more accurate to say that I conduct myself _outside_ of those rules.”

“You have me confused there, my lady.”

“Are you familiar with mazes, Mr. Mikaelson?” She took a few steps forward into the entrance and Klaus could not help but follow her. The garden maze they had in this estate was a large one, with hedges taller than an average man. The plant was grown with great care and the branches were thick with leaves, leaving no room for any curious intruders to peek through, making it impossible to deliberate the right path without much trying.

“I cannot say that I am.” He looked into the long paths barely lit up by the moonlight, “it might sound strange considering the amount of time we spent here through the years, but my father was not particularly impressed with such activities as maze-advenruring.”

“It is quite a shame.” Caroline threw a glance back to make sure he was following before she took a left turn at the corner, “mazes are fascinating artifacts. This one, for example, is clearly an imitation of the Hampton Court maze, which dated back to more than a hundred years ago. Yet its ingenuity has not dwindled through the passing of time.”

Her fingers grazed along the hedge walls as they ambled through the maze, the quiet noises were relaxing Klaus as well as grounding him. His mind was only half on her words as the other half was idly considering the possibility of gripping her delicate fingers in his hold. “Anyone with a keen mind and great knowledge would win my admirations, but I have to say it is even more attractive when a handsome lady appears so.”

That earned him a half snort from Caroline, but her voice was tinged with a playful lightness, “I can understand the draw to beauty, Mr. Mikalson, but incessantly talking about it would not grant you easier access to the object of your obsession.”

Before he could think of a smart comeback, she abruptly stopped and turned around. The next second her forefinger was pressed against Klaus’ lips, which stunned him to silence. “Hush now,” she berated softly, “I am not quite done answering your former question.” With that she turned around again and resumed her walk, and Klaus followed in a hazy daze, the sensation of her finger still hot and tingly on his lips.

“The common rule in these mazes is to always take the left turn whenever a fork appears in the path.” Caroline picked up the conversation from where they left it, “it is by no means the shortest cut, and you may meet a few dead ends, but eventually you will be able to get to the center.”

“That sounds quite boring if you ask me.”

“Indeed it is.” As if to demonstrate the point, Caroline deliberately took a right turn at the next fork, which Klaus followed with a smirk.

“Again you have proved my point,” He clasped his hands behind him in a smug stance although she could not see him, “it is in your nature to go against the rules.”

But to his surprise, a few steps forward they were blocked by a hedge wall. Caroline turned around with a smug smirk of her own, “nay, it is in my nature to disregard the rules.” She tilted her head to the side, a mischievous light to her eyes, “I never did say I was leading you on the right path.”

Klaus slowly paced to stand in front of her, his upper body bent just the slightest bit so that his eyes were half shielded by his own lashes, “I sense that there is still more of this explanation.”

“You are a quick-learner, Mr. Mikaelson.” Caroline took half a step back until she was leaning on the hedge wall behind her, all the while holding his gaze, “do you not find some similarity between mazes and the lives we are leading? You may follow the rules and go the safe but windy journey, or you may break them and end up either faster than anyone else, or trapped beyond saving.”

Her breath was hot on his cheek and Klaus realized that he was leaning in closer to her without noticing himself. Her eyes were fixed on him, whirls of blue twinkling with a hypnotizing fervor, “but ask yourself this one thing: why do we have to reach the center as expected of us, when we can do…this?”

At the last word she reached up to cup his cheek with both of her hands. She must have dropped her gloves at some point during her speech, because he could feel the warmth of her fingertips with no barriers. He could feel an accelerating pulse where their skin touched, though he could not tell whom it belongs to.

He leaned down ever so slowly, as his arm circled her waist to bring her closer. He could now smell the rose that he had earlier put in her hair, the sweet fragrance mixing with her intoxicating scent, making him dizzy with need. The need to devour her right this second, consequences be damned.

Yet consequences seemed to catch up with him much sooner in this case.

Just as his lips were descending on Caroline’s, a voice interrupted, “is it not a little impertinent, my lady, to make these decisions without consulting one’s husband?”

Klaus’ body went rigid. It was just his luck to be caught in the action by none other than Lord Augustins himself.

But to his utter shock Caroline did not seem the least disturbed. A little annoyed, maybe. She caressed his cheek one more time and pressed a feather light kiss to the corner of his mouth before releasing him and straightening up, “you always said that you valued my free spirits beyond anything, my lord. It would not do well to go back on your words, now would it?”

Trying hard to suppress the sensations of Caroline’s lips sealed on his skin, Klaus turned back to face Lord Augustins, who was now standing just a few steps from them. He was a man with dark hair and dark brown eyes, which surprisingly did not hold the indignation that Klaus had pictured. If anything, they were lit up with mischief akin to Caroline’s, and a hint of intrigue directed at _him_.

His mind was reeling and he functioned through Caroline’s introductions in a haze. As much as he had been involved in this kind of affairs, never once had he had the pleasure of meeting the husband in such an awkward occasion. He was, however, pulled out of his own head when Lord Augustins addressed him directly, “I see you have managed to catch the eyes of my lovely wife. An unusual feat, I might add, for she could be very fastidious when she wished to be.”

Again, there was no animosity in his voice, but Klaus had to bite the inside of his mouth to force out a reply, “I could not possibly take your compliments without any humility, my lord. It has been a pleasure to be in the company of Lady Augustins, a fact that I am sure you can vouch for more than myself.”

Lord Augustins snorted a laugh, but not unkindly, “somehow I doubt humility is a color that suits you, Mr. Mikaelson, or else I would not have found you here of all places, and now of all time.” The grin on his face grew more facetious as he glanced at Caroline, “as for the pleasantness of my wife’s company, I have to say that my opinion vary according to the situation at hand.”

“And what about now?” Caroline spoke up, sauntering over to Lord Augustins’ side, meeting him square in the eyes.

“Well,” Lord Augustins drawled as he brought Caroline’s body flush against his, and Caroline willingly leaned into him like a rootless vine, “I am quite sad that you abandoned me at the ball to have fun yourself, and I am equally vexed that you did not even think to include me.” He winked at Caroline suggestively, “but nothing a little good-fashioned _punishment_ could not fix.”

Klaus’ jaw could have dropped if not for Caroline’s reply further shocking him into stone.

“Oh Lorenzo,” Caroline gave Lord Augustins a loud peck on the cheek that would have been most inappropriate in the public eyes, “you say the sweetest things.”

Klaus did not know what was going on. He had not been this clueless for a long time, and he did not miss the feeling one bit. He was not sure if this was a game, or a ruse, or the two people in front of him had just gone insane due to some acute disease. But apparently, his suffering had not yet ended, as the conversation between Lord and Lady Augustins continued.

“You have got yourself a nice flower there.” Lord Augustins craned his neck to the side to observe the rose in Caroline’s hair, “it is very good taste.” It could be just a misconception but Klaus could have sworn Lord Augustins very subtly threw a glance at him.

Caroline touched the rose tenderly like she first did when Klaus had put it there, and Klaus’ heart skipped a beat at the familiar gesture. “You think so?” He heard her whisper, and he marveled at the smile blossoming at her lips. But again, he felt her eyes flickering in his direction for a brief second, which made him even more confused and suspicious.

Lord Augustins nodded as he loosened his grip on Caroline to turn around, fully facing Klaus. There was no mistake now whom he was staring at. “But whom would I be if I do not try to get some entertainment of my own out of this?”

The vague words did not bode well in Klaus’ ears and the frivolous tone of Lord Augustins angered him immensely. He clenched his fists and met Lord Augutins’ eyes with a firm scowl, “I apologize for having offended your honor in my thoughtless behavior, my lord, and I would willingly take any punishment that you deem acceptable. However, I do not think it necessary to bring further humiliation to Lady Augustins as…”

“No need for the gallantry, Mr. Mikaelson.” Lord Augustins interrupted him with a wave of his hand, “Lady Augustins and I have a long-established understanding between us.”

The glint of mischief was back in his eyes, as well as Caroline’s, and Klaus looked on in utter disbelief, with a sliver of jealousy cutting through his clouded mind that they were in on a secret from which he was excluded.

“Tell me, Mr. Mikaelson,” Lord Augustins smirked at him, “what think you of a well-balanced ménage à trois?”

Klaus’ throat seemed to have closed off at the shocking question. But Lord Augustins was clearly not expecting an instant answer, or that Klaus’ stunned expression served as enough of a satisfaction, for he merely held up his arm for Caroline to take, “I think it is time to retire for the night. So if you will excuse us.” He nodded at Klaus with a crooked smile, “and do consider the offer, Mr. Mikaelson.”

Caroline quietly bid him good night, her eyes shining vaguely in the darkness. Klaus could not interpret those ever-changing gleams in the deep pools of blue, as they continued to mingle in his mind long after she turned her back on him. One moment he read amusement, the next apology, and yet the next pure lust.

Never had he met a woman that messed with his head this much. And to think that he had not even _danced_ with her yet.

Klaus hung his head tiredly, letting out a frustrated sigh, when something on the ground caught his attention with their soft silver glow. He picked up the gloves that Caroline had dropped on the ground earlier. Leaning back on the hedge wall where Caroline had been just minutes ago, Klaus absently thought about how he did not get to hold her hands once through their venture into the maze, while feeling the cold, silky surface of the gloves with his tentative fingers.

* * *

The drawing room was quieting down late into the night, when everyone seemed to be tired of the card games. Gone were the lively chatter and bustle of actions, the air of the room no longer flowed like watercolor with its clarity and fluidity. Instead it resembled more and more of an oil painting as the night lazily dragged on, completed with muffled voices, stilled positions and faces of undetermined secret intentions, or mere boredom.

Klaus sipped the wine by the window as he looked on. His mother, along with some of the older guests had already retired for the night some time earlier. As predicted, Lord Leyndarvatn was sitting in an armchair near the fire place, occupying himself with a tome. The Petrova sisters were crammed into a chaise longue at the side of the room, their nearly identical faces drawn together by some inane gossip. In the far end of the room, Lady Rebekah sat at the piano, her fingers absently pressing on random keys as she was deep in conversation with, surprisingly, Lord Augustins. Whose wife was seated all alone at the abandoned card table.

Caroline wore a much simpler gown than the other night. The short-sleeved white gown fitted her perfectly, and the under-dress was of a light rose color, the soft hue easily seen through the covering fabric. She was not wearing any accessories, save for the silver chain around her neck and a tiny diamond comb that held up her blonde hair. She seemed quite absorbed with a deck of cards, drawing ones out and setting them in a mysterious pattern with a little smile dangling at her lips.

Klaus had barely spoken to her since their parting at the maze, partly due to the difference of their activities through the day (she was, apparently, taken out for a tour of their estate), and partly due to his own stubbornness. He was not the least bit pleased with what she and Lord Augustins suggested last night, and the sleepless night he had after that did not help his mood either.

The only things he learned about her today were that she and Lord Augustins were among the many guests of their house party, and that she much preferred apricot ice-cream over trifles.

“When, pray tell, are you going to spare some of that obsessive attention of yours to grant your brother, who is actually having wine with you, instead of ignoring your blatant stares and pretending to be enjoying himself, Mr. Mikaelson?”

“I have no idea what nonsense you are blathering about, Mr. Mikaelson.” Klaus reluctantly tore his gaze away from Caroline to glare at his younger brother Kol.

To his credit, Kol raised his glass with a somewhat sheepish expression, “whatever you say, Nik. After all what do I know about married ladies? I enjoy chasing the unmarried ones way too much. You on the other hand…” A salacious grin crept up his face, “I can still remember the way Lady Aurora _Castle_ struggled to keep her stockings in place with the garters _missing_. Now that was a view worth seen at least once in your life time.”

“Have some class, Kol.” Klaus frowned at him, “you do not have to repeat everything you have witnessed in detail.”

“Oh but I am too giving a person to not share them with anyone.” Kol winked, and much to Klaus’ annoyance, leaned over to whisper in his ears, “like how you have not gone a minute without staring at the fair Lady Augustins, even if she sat all the way down the other side of the table at dinner. Or how you clench your teeth every time you see her and Lord Augustins exchange a look and smile at each other across the table. They are quite the lovely couple, aren’t they? Well, just like that!” He exclaimed gesturing at Klaus’ tense jaw, “brilliant demonstration brother. I knew we worked best as a team.”

Klaus took a sip of his wine, not deigning to answer his brother’s childish jabs. He knew he was not being exactly discreet, but he simply could not help himself in Caroline’s presence. He wanted to ask her if what happened last night was nothing but a sick joke, if she was trying to lure him into making a fool of himself. But more eager was the desire to ask nothing at all but to ravish her right on the spot, to hell with all the prying eyes.

“It just got better.” True to his words, Kol was diligently reporting to him the happenings around them, “she is staring back now.”

Klaus went rigid upon hearing those words. It took all his self-restraint to remain composed and to focus on his own glass without glancing in her direction.

“Most curious,” Kol drawled with much suspense in his voice, clearly excited by the situation, “now her _husband_ is staring at you.”

Klaus’ head snapped up, only quick enough to catch Lord and Lady Augustins sharing another unreadable smile of theirs. He was fed up with it. Whatever trick they were playing, he would not be a part of it, and he would make sure that Caroline knew that. He thrust his glass into Kol’s hand without even a side glance at him, “do me a favor and go bother someone else for the rest of the night.”

He paid no heed to Kol’s faint snicker as he approached Caroline at the card table.

She silently assented to his joining her, but made no attempt to start the conversation. Her eyes were trained on him though, a touch of curiosity under the deep blue surface. Klaus took the deck of cards that she left on the table when he sat down and started shuffling.

“Do you, per chance, fancy another game, Lady Augustins?” He was going to take things into his own hands and deep down he knew that she would not say no. Not when she had not got whatever she was after yet.

Caroline’s lips curled slightly, “I imagine the ladies would be rather taken with you when you take the initiative like this, Mr. Mikaelson. And when they are taken with you, they would hardly reject a chance to spend time with you, would they?”

“I will take that as an affirmative then.” He smirked, glancing at her pointedly from under his lashes.

“Do not be so hasty.” Caroline reached over to halt his shuffling, her fingers grazing against his, making them both jump a little in their seats. She cleared her throat, “tell me about this game you proposed. I have a feeling it will be quite different.”

Klaus’ smirk widened, “well, I was thinking of a bet to be precise. We can bet on any card game of your choosing.”

Caroline bit her lower lip, her eyes searching his. Klaus was giving her nothing, not even showing the pull he felt over her little gesture. She grinned back, “vingt-et-un then. I always liked the…possibility of it.”

“Very well. Then we will play two rounds, and take the role of the dealer in turn. If the winner is not determined by then we will add another round and I shall ask my brother Kol to deal for us.”

“That sounds fair. And what of the wager?”

Klaus licked his lips like a wild predator, “whoever wins gets to ask one thing of the other, and it must be fulfilled.”

“Have I ever told you that I like the way your mind works, Mr. Mikaelson?” Caroline gave him a knowing smile. Klaus had never doubted her intelligence since their first encounter. They both knew what that wager would entail. It did not matter who won at the end. Only one thing would happen.

The only question now was when, and how. Or rather, on whose terms.

He pushed the deck of cards across the table, “ladies first.”

His first card was two of hearts. Caroline puts the card in front of him with the elegance of a swan, but her eyes raking over him were cunning as a fox. And they were making him warm. Very warm. He swallowed, nodding silently, signaling her to deal the next card.

King of diamonds.

“A fitting card, do you not think so?” Caroline whispered. Her voice sounded lower than usual, but it went right through him, tickling at his heart and other unknown or unspeakable parts of his body.

“I cannot say that I agree.” Klaus shifted in his seat, “I always thought the spades more suitable for myself.”

“Just because they are dark?” Caroline snorted, “that is such a h-men thing to say.”

Klaus squinted at her slip, but did not pursue it. He just raised an eyebrow for her to elaborate.

Caroline traced the outline of the diamond shape on the card, “diamonds are much harder and stronger than you think. They are born out of darkness, yet they shine.” She blinked a few times, a blush creeping up her cheeks. It was a look Klaus had yet to see on her before. If not for the daring act last night, Klaus would even go so far as to say that it was one of shyness. But when she looked up and her eyes held his with all the longing unveiled, he realized that he was not mistaken.

“They shine brighter than anything in sight.”

Klaus could feel his heart beating so violently in his rib cage that for a moment he was concerned everyone in the room would hear the unnatural sound. It was raging inside him like thunder and Caroline’s eyes on him were the lightening striking through. She, too, seemed lost in the moment, her pink lips slightly parted as if waiting to be kissed.

The look made Klaus grin, his composure suddenly back in place, but the heat running through him did not die down one beat. However, this time he leaned forward with much confidence, “should you not be dealing your own card, my lady?” He softly tapped at the table, “or are you forgetting your duty as the dealer so soon?”

Caroline let out a tiny gasp, finally returning to herself. The blush on her cheeks only grew deeper, “As you must have gathered from my speech, Mr. Mikaelson, I am partial to shiny things. In this case, your fine blue eyes.” The shyness on her face faded away as she spoke, replaced by something fierce yet seductive. The Caroline from last night was back. “I own that it is one of the biggest weaknesses of mine.”

“Pray forgive my rudeness, my lady.” Klaus leaned back in his chair, now prepared for their little game outside of the cards, “but do you not have those yourself? Extremely stunning ones, might I add.”

“That I do. But it is most unfortunate that they are already in my possession. You on the other hand...” Caroline looked him up and down as she drew another card out of the deck, but she did not show it on the table right away, just sticking it under her chin with a half grin.

Klaus mirrored her posture, tapping his own chin lightly with his forefinger, “So you are saying that,  were you to take hold of me in your dainty palms, you would discard me in the ficklest fashion within the next minute I presume?”

Caroline batted her lashes at him coyly, “With the depths of those eyes, I doubt it is possible to ever gain the entirety of you. I dare say one would never get enough.”

“But alas, this discussion is purely hypothetical.”

“We shall see.” She finally put her card face up on the table. Queen of hearts. “What is your choice, Mr. Mikaelson?”

Klaus considered. Two of the tens were already out, but there were only two people playing, so the chance of busting was still high. But on the other hand, he was not that far ahead with his points. Caroline could easily trump him with the next card. He was never one to shy away from taking risks, or he would not have suggested the bet in the first place.

“I will double down.”

Caroline did not seem surprised at his decision, “what do you propose to add to the wager?”

Klaus lowered his voice as he already felt several pair of eyes in the room were on them, “a pair of white silk gloves in the finest quality.” He smirked smugly at her, “rest assured that they had only been worn by an accomplished lady as beautiful as you.”

“Are you sure Mr. Mikaelson?” Caroline eyed him challengingly, “they sound like a treasured item of yours. I would hate to pilfer them out of your possession.”

“No need to worry on my concern my lady. I have a feeling that I shall not have to part with them after all.”

“So sure of yourself.” Caroline huffed a laugh, “and if you win?”

“I want that comb in your hair. _When_ I win this round.”

Caroline shook her head slightly, making the light reflected from the comb dancing in her golden tresses, “not a day ago you gifted me with something to adorn my hair, and now you want to take adornment away from it. Yet you have the nerve to call me fickle.”

“In my dense, my actions may change along with the circumstances,” Klaus caught her eyes and held them still, keeping the focus of her mind and body solely on him until their breaths came out in synchronization, “but it was all for one thing.”

A long moment and a myriad of emotions passed in their tangled sight and Caroline whispered, her voice ever so gentle, yet lined with an invisible storm, “then what are we waiting for?”

Her wrist flicked as his last card dropped on the table. Eight of spades. Klaus breathed a sigh of relief. The total was rather high, which put him in a slight advantage. Unless Caroline got an Ace for the next card, she would not beat him.

“Ready to settle the wager?” He lifted an eyebrow at her, eyeing her comb pointedly.

“Let us not get ahead of ourselves so fast.” Caroline said as she drew another card from the deck and placed it right next to her queen of hearts.

It was the king of clubs.

Caroline let out a quiet giggle as she saw Klaus’ face drop, “I remember once scoffing at someone who told me that cards were magical things, and that they could somehow see through the players’ fate. I called her a charlatan right to her face. But now I have to concede I may have made the conjecture too hastily.” Her lips curled teasingly at him, “is it not interesting, Mr. Mikaelson, that we should have two kings and a queen in one round?”

Klaus could not control the scowl that was forming on his face. Not being able to win was one thing, but having Caroline throw the inane insinuation at him was quite another. He was done talking in riddles. “Let me get one thing straight, _Caroline_ ,” he kept his voice low so as not to draw the attention of others in the room, but he made sure to let the name graze the exact right parts of his mouth as if it were her very flesh. He was satisfied to hear the gasp under her breath, “I am still winning this game. It has nothing to do with cards, or fate, or your sketchy husband. I _will_ get what I want, and deep down you know it. Because you want the same thing.”

Caroline stared at him, expressionless, her lips pressed into a thin line. As the moment dragged on Klaus was beginning to fear if this time he had taken it too far. But he would not back down.

Then suddenly Caroline reached up and took the comb out of her hair in one swift move. Her blonde curls cascaded down her shoulders like waterfalls and for a split second Klaus had to squint to see her smile in the golden glow. Something hard and cold was pressed into his hand. He looked down, realizing that the comb was now in his possession.

“As I have told you once, Mr. Mikaelson, I believe that all righteous courage should be rewarded.” Caroline set out to gather the cards, her smile turning into a conspiratorial smirk, “but a tie is a tie, so we still have one more round to determine the winner.”

Klaus was about to respond but he sensed Lord Augustins approaching the table. He nodded at Klaus before going to Caroline’s side, “is everything all right, my lady?” He pushed a few strands of wild hair out of her face, “we were getting quite concerned over there.” He made a gesture with his chin towards the direction he came in, where Klaus did not need to turn around to know that Lady Rebekah was craning her neck inconspicuously this way, studiously pretending she was not eavesdropping.

Only now did Klaus realize the eyes of the whole room were on them, though everyone was trying to not look too obvious, except Kol of course, who was just short of following Lord Augustins in his steps-even Lord Leyndarvatn himself was no longer head deep in his book.

“Oh, it was nothing. Just that my comb broke out of the blue and Mr. Mikaelson here has kindly offered to have it fixed.” Caroline spoke with the most saccharine voice he had heard her uttered yet. He noticed that she only used that tone and pitch of voice when she and Lord Augustins were in public, almost as if they were putting on an act.

“That was indeed very gentlemanly of you, Mr. Mikaelson.” Lord Augustins addressed him before turning back to Caroline, “but let me offer my own piece of gallantry.” He took his handkerchief out from his waistcoat and tied Caroline’s hair into a loose side braid.

Caroline batted her eyelashes up at him and covered his hand on her shoulder, “oh Lorenzo.”

Oh sweet heavens. Klaus almost rolled his eyes at the loving scene that must have played hundreds of times during the last day. He had overheard (or been forcibly subjected to) the longing gushing about “their unconcealed affection towards each other” from his sister and at least five other women, house maids included.

But at least when Lord Augustins walked away to leave them to their ongoing bet, the piano was making meaningless sounds again and the book had earned back Lord Leyndarvatn’s full attention.

Making sure the comb was secured in his own waistcoat, Klaus was only too eager to take the shuffled cards from Caroline and forget about this interlude. Caroline watched him with that signature smirk of hers, nodding silently to give him permission to proceed.

Her first card was, out of all fifty-two of them, three of hearts.

Caroline let out a giggle, “and you still do not believe in the cards?”

But this time Klaus could tell it was more of a jest than anything suggestive, so he only shrugged, “oh I believe in them. Just you see.” He winked at her as he drew out the next card.

Two of spades.

“Well, would you look at that?” Klaus licked his lips with a grin, “maybe the superstition did have some merit after all.”

Caroline merely smiled and gestured him to go on.

Klaus dealt his own card. It was a nine. He did not give it much thought before placing another card on her side at her confirmation.

Three of clubs.

Klaus bit his lips, again vexed. But soon he realized Caroline’s eyes were on his lips, and his eyes could not help but be drawn to hers. He wondered how they would feel against his own. Soft? Scorching? Trembling? Fierce? Like the suffering of life, or an imposing death (yet of neither he would be fearful if it were _her_ )?

But he was not there yet. Not when they still had a bet at hand. He dropped another card from the deck.

Two of diamonds.

Their eyes snapped up from the telling card and glued together, not able to part as long as a blink. Klaus whispered his voice suddenly hoarse, “do you still want me to hit you?”

Her eyes grew weak at his words as if melting, but her voice was heated steel, “aye.”

As if spelled the last card slid from his fingers, landing right in the middle of the table. The single red square in the center made his breath hitch, but despite its signaling his own defeat, the pattern only sent a hot flow of anticipation rushing through his veins. Ace of diamonds.

She hit twenty-one points.

* * *

Music and laughter were booming from downstairs, sounding so out of place in the silence of the second floor. The contrast felt almost surreal, as if he was standing on a plate floating above the common ways of living. Or it may be the other way round, in which case his whole view of the world was tilted, and he was in fact hanging precariously upside-down in the dungeon under the normal imagery of life.

Klaus felt oddly bemused and calmed at the thought, the notion of being a belligerent instilling vigor in his body. Truth be told, he had been on edge ever since Caroline won their bet last night. She had immediately given the terms of her request-just the terms, not the request itself, about which Klaus would only learn if he were to come to her chambers the next evening.

“Is that not considered cheating?” He had asked her, “for the wager stated only one thing but you are already asking for two, if not more.”

“Indeed it is. But would you risk throwing away your gallantry and going back on your words to get out of my obvious trap?”

Her cheekiness astounded him, but he could respect a woman who spoke things as they were. Which was why he excused himself from the gathering downstairs earlier, and was now pacing in front of the door of her chambers.

He did not quite understand why his nerves were acting up. He had done this countless of times before, more often than not outside the secure confines of the house even. Sometimes he thought he did it for the sole purpose of riling Mikael up, of hearing him spitting in contempt how Klaus could only prove his self-worth “with the fake affections of cheap women”.

Klaus would glare or smile coldly at him, and retort silently in his head that Mikael could not even hold that of his own wife.

But it was different this time somehow. He did not by any means see Caroline as cheap-though part of her intentions still remained unclear-and Mikael was not there to find out about it. He never would. Yet his presence felt stronger than ever, slithering along the walls and roaming the ends of the corridor, eyes with no emotions other than scorn and mockery hovering over his shoulder.

Watching Klaus' every move from the inside of his mind.

Klaus was never a superstitious man, but the feeling of being half-possessed was too real to be ignored. He could clearly read the thoughts in all those eyes, could hear their vicious whispers. That he was making a fool of himself. That he was merely a play thing for the woman that had plagued his dream from the day he met her. That he was too weak to deny her, to deny _himself_ , even if he was well aware of all those possibilities.

And he glared and smiled coldly at the void, as he finally knocked on Caroline’s door.

She opened it with a little smile, and swiftly moved aside to let him in before closing it behind. Instead of following him further inside, she leaned idly on the door, the posture reminding him of the night in the maze. “Good evening Mr. Mikaelson. I see you have made good on your promise.”

The room was only dimly lit by several candles and her figure was half concealed by the darkness, but Klaus drank her in all the more greedily. She was in a plain night shift, a white bed-jacket loosely wrapped around her shoulders, untied in the front. Her hair was down in curls, catching every bit of the candlelight. Klaus was secretly pleased at that sight-he could hardly push down the disappointment the other night when Lord Augustins tied those beautiful waves into a braid.

“Good evening to you, my lady.” He slowly reached inside his waistcoat and pulled the gloves out with a smirk, “I came bearing gifts.”

Caroline eyed him critically, leaving the gloves dangling from the tip of his fingers, “gifting me with my own things. At least I cannot fault you for being unoriginal.”

“You see, that is exactly the point.” Klaus sauntered towards her until they were nose to nose, pressing the gloves into her soft hand, “now every time you see them, you will be reminded of the man whom you once left a piece of yourself with.”

“Can you not say one compliment without being offensive at the same time?” Caroline frowned, but there was laughter hidden in her voice.

“That I can.” He leaned closer to her, her sweet scent inundating his senses as he was sure his were doing to her, “You look so beautiful this evening. I have been dying to lay my lips on yours ever since I entered the room.”

She pushed herself up from the door and brought her lips closer to his, her breath tingling on his skin, “then what are you waiting for?”

“I would hate to distract us from the right track of business.” Klaus suddenly drew back, his smile roguish and teasing, “there is, after all, a purpose to this _rendezvous_ of ours, is there not?”

Caroline’s features changed in a second, now looking sharp and composed, as if she knew Klaus was not going to go through with his advances, “it is good to see a man with the right sense of priority, Mr. Mikaelson.”

She walked to the other end of the room where a work table was placed between two large windows, and sat on the stool in front of the table, gesturing for him to take another seat in the armchair by one of the windows facing the four-poster bed. Setting the gloves aside, she crossed her hands in her lap, her eyes firmly fixed on his face, “let me reassure you that it would not draw any ill feelings from my part if you are having cold feet.”

“You think so low of me, my lady.” Klaus squinted at her with a half-grin, “but pray do tell me what you request of me, so I can show you that your opinions were misguided.”

“As you wish.” Caroline smiled cryptically and the next words out of her mouth had Klaus almost jumping out of his seat, “I want you to steal your family heirloom for me.”

From the way she said it she could mean only one thing. “The ring?” Klaus uttered incredulously.

Caroline nodded, “the ring.”

Klaus breathed a deep sigh, running a hand along his jaw. The ruby ring, or as called by those in the know, “the dragon ring”, was a treasured collection of Mikael’s. Rumor had it that the ancestors of the Mikaelson family were once dragon slayers, and that they had procured the precious ring from the beast’s den during a brutal hunt. Klaus had never seen the ring himself, only heard his brother Elijah describe it to him after Mikael showed it to Elijah when he turned sixteen years of age.

“I have never seen anything so…intimidating, Niklaus. Do not take me wrong, it was indeed beautiful beyond description but it was also heavy in every sense of the word.” He remembered Elijah telling him, a faraway look in his brown eyes, “it would make anyone doubt their capabilities of keeping hold of it, including myself. But I think father was trying to tell me that I had to shoulder the responsibility for our family, prepared or not. It was not a choice.”

Yet it was. Not on Elijah’s part perhaps, but on Mikael’s. To this day Klaus could recall the secret longing his teenage-self had felt hearing those words, that burning question eating at his heart of why he could not be burdened with the same expectation, and the accompanying shame of coveting what had never been his by birthright.

And he would not be that _boy_ anymore.

“I am most sorry my lady,” Klaus said after the long pause, his voice devoid of any emotions, “but I am afraid I do have to go back on my words after all.”

“And why is that?”

“Because that ring you asked for belongs to the Lord Leyndarvatn.” That title tasted like sawdust in his mouth but he bit down with force, “and I am not about to gain it in the fashion you proposed.”

To his surprise, Caroline merely snorted, “did I not tell you about my attitude toward social conventions?”

“Enlightening as that speech was,” Klaus retorted, annoyed by her making light of this, “the case in discussion is different. I am not refusing because of traditions, or the law, I am refusing because…”

“Because your father deemed you unworthy of having it?”

Her unbidden words cut deep and hot rage burst through the gushing wound. Klaus glared at her, a deep roar tearing roughly out of his throat, “do not pretend that you know anything about me or my family!”

Caroline met his glowering eyes without a flinch, “I was not pretending, just stating a fact. Your family is wealthy and reputable enough to last for at least a few more generations. I do not see Lord Leyndarvatn loosing anything of consequence if the ring goes missing. So I can only assume that you are unwilling due to the chains that your father left on you.”

Klaus bristled. How dare she speak of such things! To even mention that man in front of him, and to imply that he had any lingering hold on him. He was not in chains, not for a long time and especially not after Mikael was buried six feet underground. He would have broken the shackles to pieces with his bare hands if they were substantial, burn them into running hot fluid and pour it all on Mikael’s grave until that fetid piece of land he occupied could no longer be covered in even a stem of withering grass.

But they were not. And Klaus was him own man. Klaus was his own man with eyes of another watching him from inside.

He threw angry words at her but they sounded like desperation in his ears, “whatever you say, I will not have you manipulate me into bringing disgrace to the family.”

 _Bringing disgrace to the family?_ He heard those eyes snicker. _Now you sound like me, boy._

“Why do you care?” Though seeming to have sensed his restlessness, Caroline did not let on. If anything, her inquiries only got sharper, dissecting and eviscerating him until he was weak to his wearied bones and empty in his once loaded heart, “Your mother did not care enough, or there would not be you. Your father did not care when he deprived you of any entails and left your family to the public suspicions and gossips. Your siblings would not care because, thank goodness, they were wise enough not to be poisoned by your father’s words.”

“I will ask you one more time, Niklaus,” the use of his given name startled him, but her voice was suddenly soothing like a gentle breeze, “what is there to care about?”

Klaus closed his eyes briefly, before opening them to stare at the bed, the sheets and pillows so tidy he could have believed that no one had ever slept in them. But he wondered just how many unspeakable things had been done on them, witnessed by them, or spoken around them. How many tears, how much despair, how little sense.

Still he avoided her eyes, although he could tell just by the tone of her voice that there was no pity in them, nor was there accusation or ridicule. She was genuinely curious, which felt almost unbelievable considering what she already knew, “where did you hear such things?”

“I know many things, Mr. Mikaelson, more than people would ever imagine.”

He did not doubt that. He also did not point out that she had not exactly answered his question. Slowly, Klaus turned around to face her again, storm raging in his eyes but his voice barely a whisper, “you cannot expect these things to go unnoticed. People will find out, and I will be the talk of the town for months, even years to come.” He sighed, and then let out a bitter chuckle, “you are forcing me out of my own home.”

“I am not forcing you to do anything.” Caroline stood up, ambling to the little shelf between the bed and the armchair Klaus occupied, where a candle was placed on top. She held out a hand to it, her fingers dangerously near the flame, as if teasing it, or taming it, “although I do wonder what it is that has kept you here.”

Klaus held his tongue. He could not let her know that he had been wondering the same thing himself.

“As for the town’s people,” she snorted a soft laugh, “they will forget about it soon enough. Everything fades in time.”

Her face was outlined by the flickering candle light and for a moment she seemed much older than she appeared to be, the blue of her eyes completely covered by the reds and oranges of the flame. Klaus watched entranced as she put a finger to the body of the candle to catch a drop of falling wax, her eyes squinting a little at the sensations while her lips curled into a blissful smile, as if she could not feel the burn at all.

“Everything fades, except those rare particles that give off their own light. They glow, they burn, they incite and inflame. They turn their surroundings upside-down. It is hardly beautiful, but it is the only way to leave a mark.”

That last statement was not entirely true though. She was blinding his eyes and burning him to ashes but she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Klaus’ breath hitched as Caroline turned to him and sucked the tip of that finger into her mouth, her tongue circling it for a full round before letting it fall to the side of her body, “So, Mr. Mikaelson, would you rather be remembered as the notorious pariah, or nothing at all?”

“I can see what your choice is.” Klaus propped up his elbow on the arm of the chair, two fingers gripping his chin as he studied her like the most intricate puzzle, of which he dared to say that he was starting to have a rough answer in mind.

“If you are thinking of either of the two, you are terribly mistaken.” Caroline let the night-jacket slide off her creamy shoulder, the motion tantalizingly slow and sensual, “I much prefer being the mysterious kind. The one whose ill reputation run for miles, but whose face no one recognized; whose misconduct ring like the devil’s pitchfork, but whose name no one ever speak of-that is, except on the lips of her lover.” She moaned the last word out, dropping her shift on the ground.

Klaus felt himself harden painfully at the sight. She was stark naked in front of him, her pale skin tone warmed by the candle light. Thousands of shades of red, orange and gold ran wild along her perfect curves and contours like a flowing stream of fire. She inhaled and the flames soared, she sighed and they dripped off her like sweltering syrup of amber.

But of all the flames she groomed, the blues of her eyes were the hottest of them all. No coquettish shame, no calculating seduction, only unadulterated, pure, _lust_.

With all the will power he could muster, Klaus managed to stay still, though his member was straining in his suddenly-too-tight breeches, “are you trying to bribe me, my lady?”

She only threw him a side glance, sitting onto the bed and leaning back in the piled up pillows, her hand cupping a breast so naturally and absently like he was barely there, “do you need me to?”

No, he did not. Deep down Klaus was well aware that the moment she made the request, the option of backing down was simply inexistent. He was sick of this haunted house, with its omnipresent prying eyes-both living and dead. The only eyes he wanted on him were hers.

And it seemed that the craving was not one-sided.

Without a word, Caroline propped a leg on the edge of the bed, the other still dangling down. Her swollen center was on full display before him, and the wetness was glistening so invitingly in the flickering light. She reached down to dip a finger in, coating it with the sweet nectar before smearing it on one of her already taut nipples, “Do you not fancy a taste?”

Klaus half-cursed, half-bellowed under his uneven breath. The next thing he knew, he was crouching right between her separated legs, sucking on her wetted nipple long and hard. Caroline moaned, falling further back against the headboard, sticking out her breasts in his eager face. Klaus continued to circle his tongue around the nipple while reaching up to tweak the other in between his fingers. Caroline’s body jerked, and Klaus bit back a contented chuckle around her hot skin.

He felt Caroline’s fingers sink into his own curls. “I see you have an evil mind of your own, Mr. Mikaelson,” she rasped, “and an evil tongue.”

The formal address brought an unexpected surge of anger through his lust-filled mind. Flesh against flesh yet he was still _Mr. Mikaelson_ , a vague face and a generic name and nothing more. He would never be the one whose cheeks she kissed in public, whose name she called with a joyous spark in her eyes, who shared every secret in life with her-secrets like _him_.

With a last devious bite he released Caroline’s nipple, straightening up to swallow her gasp with his possessive lips, roughly stirring her mouth with her own lingering scent before he abandoned it in throbbing want as well. Creeping down her neck he sucked on her pulse point hard till he could feel the thin layer of skin straining between his teeth like silk that was about to tear. At her sharp intake of breath he soothed the spot with his tongue, blowing air at it drawing her involuntary shivers.

“My apologies, my lady,” he scattered kisses along her neck and jaw line until he reached her ear, her heavy breaths hot and steamy on his own neck, “for that is surely going to leave a mark. What would Lord Augustins say when he sees it? Will he mark you also? Will he make you moan and whimper so shamelessly like this, like the wanton that you are?” He kneaded her breasts carelessly with one palm while the other sank into her messy curls and gripped with controlled force, “he even braided your hair for you the other night. But will he grab them just the way you want and make you hurt so delightfully?”

“As _delightful_ as your ministrations are,” Caroline struggled to turn around and bit him softly on the earlobe as a warning, “I assure you that your talk of Lorenzo will only dampen the mood.”

“Why?” Klaus loosened his hold on her breasts, his hand swiftly reaching down to give her a brief but harsh brush right on the clitoris with his thumb, earning her short muffled scream in the crook of his neck, her body curling in around his, “because you do feel the guilt of cheating on him?”

“Because,” Caroline pushed Klaus on the chest to put some distance between them, her strength taking him by surprise, “Lorenzo is not truly my husband.”

That was surprising knowledge indeed. But more surprising was the fact that as Klaus looked her right in the eyes, he instantly believed her. Those blue orbs were completely clear and open, through which her soul bared just like her body. That very thought turned the raging blaze inside Klaus to simmering flames, warming him and slowly awakening every hidden sense around his body that he had not even known existed.

Probably taking his silence as suspicion, Caroline sighed, “he is just a friend. We have known each other for a very long time and I only pretend to be his wife for the convenience of it all.” She curled a strand of her hair around her little finger and grinned roguishly, “you would not believe the privileges a woman could acquire just by staying married. Even better if she snatched a husband with a proper title.”

Klaus could not help but chuckle at that, “on the contrary, I can very much believe so.” He closed the distance between them, showering open-mouthed kisses along her collar bones down to the valley between her breasts. He savored the taste of her skin as much as the mewling noises coming out of her throat.

“Does that mean you are inclined to stop your ridiculous, albeit adorable, acts of jealousy for now,” She looked down at him through her thick eyelashes, “Niklaus?”

He felt himself harden even more at her calling his given name, and from the smirk on her face she expected that effect. She was so beautiful in this moment, fiery yet playful, knowing but still anticipating. However, Klaus was sure of one thing. He could make her a thousand times more beautiful in the next.

Pulling both of her legs down till her behind was resting just on the edge of the bed, Klaus kneeled before her dripping sex. “Yes,” he kept both his hands firmly on her parted knees, giving her one last devious smirk filled with mischievous promises, “and just one more thing. Call me Klaus.” Before the last word was fully off his lips, he dived into her trembling warmth.

She tasted sweet and pungent, like a wild rose on fire, and he devoured her scorching petals with greed. Caroline’s moans floated into his ears, broken syllables and unintelligible noises, the only coherent thing the name that he put on the tip of her tongue.

He circled her swollen clitoris with great care, tapping and lapping and everything in between until her hips were buckling violently against his mouth in need. “Klaus, please…” She let out a frustrated whimper as he sucked the little bundle of nerves in between his lips, only to release it in a fleeting second, blowing a gentle breath on the glistening erection. Tremors rippled along her whole body, peaking in her throbbing core in an uncontrollable convulse.

“Since you asked so nicely…my sweet Caroline.” Klaus wrapped his lips around her clitoris again, this time thrusting his forefinger into her in one swift motion. Caroline cried out at the intense sensation, her legs involuntarily parting wider to allow him better access.

Klaus grinned around her wetness, adding another finger while his tongue works faster and more fiercely on top. He could feel Caroline contracting tightly around his knuckles, so close to her impending climax, her hands reaching down blindly till she found his curls and she sank her fingers deep into them, keeping him locked to her heat with the unscrupulous avarice of a lioness.

Stopping the movement of his tongue for a second, Klaus whispered, making sure his lips were brushing her sensitive surface on every word, “you can now remember me as the man who gave you the best orgasm of your life, sweetheart.” Then he curled his fingers onto that sweet spot inside her and pressed in synchronization with his tongue, one, two, three times-

Caroline’s back abruptly arched into midair, a long scream wrenching out of her as her sex clenched painfully around him, convulsing intermittently, sending waves of shivers to her extremities. Klaus raised his head, but continued to rub his fingers inside of her until she went completely limp in his supporting arm, spent by the explosive ecstasy.

“It is such a relief that your actions match your conceited words.” Caroline said after a while, pulling Klaus up to sit beside her on the bed, her voice still hoarse from sex, “that was indeed a nice way to remember you by.”

“Et voilà,” Klaus put a hand on his heart to fake the hurt look, “I knew you would discard me to the side as soon as you have had me.”

“No need to worry. How would I ever implement my nefarious plans without your help?”

Klaus tensed at that, but he fought to keep his tone light, “and here I thought you would have forgot all about it after I worked my magic on you.”

But as usual, Caroline was quick to poke at the truth behind his camouflage, “why did you even agree if you have so many reservations about it? I would like to think that I left you enough of a choice.”

Klaus gave her a wry smile, “you say that, but it seems to me as if life is constantly forcing me to take the darker path. And in that sense, I have far fewer choices than you would believe.”

“What you are going to do is no better than what we are doing now, nor is it worse than what I am sure you did in the past.” Caroline stood up and walked backwards to the window, pulling him along with her via the collar of his shirt, “and it is exactly the same as what everyone does day in, day out.”

Suddenly she tugged at the corner of the drapes and they fell to the side, leaving the huge window exposed in sight and her naked figure exposed in the window.

“Caroline…” He hastily reached around her, trying to rectify the result of her temporary insanity, but she blocked him with her body, the body that was glowing in the moonlight with immeasurable honesty and belligerence, “do you see yourself as a sinner?”

Klaus wanted to deny it. But as if mocking his self-deception he saw Mikael’s sinister ghost just beyond the glass. And it dawned on him that it did not matter what he thought. He was already a sinner by birth, and he always would be, because he was the bastard son of Lord and Lady Leyndarvatn.

Yet again Caroline interrupted his falling into his own abyss. She drew him close with her arms, her lips against his neck hot as the coal of hell, sealing kisses along his vein as she whispered, “look, Klaus. Just look.”

And he did as he was told. Beyond her shoulder, through the window, he saw the deserted garden beneath them, swallowed by darkness and travesties of a noble, refined life. Upstanding lords and ladies concealing their affairs in the shadow, maidens weeping or cursing, men drunk beyond repair, a spat here and a brawl there, as meaningless as they came. He loathed the scene so fiercely but he could not bring himself to look away.

“As far as I am concerned, the true sinners are those who do not own what they commit, or do not see it for what it truly is. Other than that, there is no way to tell all of us apart.” As she uttered those words, her hands stole their way down to the front buttons of his breeches, freeing his manhood which was still hard as iron. Leaning back on the window and wrapping a leg around his waist, she rubbed her sex against his hardness, arousal wet and messy running amok in her eyes, “we are but on the opposite sides of the window.”

Klaus groaned from the need burning down every sensible cord in his head, but in the scorching lust his heart felt more determined than ever, “then let them watch what they can never have.” With that he sank himself into Caroline’s velvety core, letting the primal instincts take control.

His last coherent thought was that Caroline’s face as he entered her should be carved into marble, disguised as a sculpture of an angel hymning to the holy spirits, and put right in the center of the garden spring.

* * *

_Go to the late Lord Leyndarvatn’s study. Lorenzo and I would be questioned wandering the halls, for only your family occupy that floor._

Klaus wondered why exactly it was that Caroline knew so much about his family, but that was a question he would save for later. For now, the imperative for him was to recall everything she told him the other night, and finish his job without unnecessary mistakes-or any mistakes, for that matter-as quickly as possible.

Caroline was not wrong when she decided to steer clear of the crime scene. There was another ball downstairs tonight, to welcome some family moving into town for the summer, and Klaus did not bother to learn their name. He would not be there anyway. Once again he would be the one of the host family so unruly that he dared to sneak out the ball and leave all those vapid ladies and lords unattended.

It was a good time to commit the misdeed, for everyone would be in the ballroom; but it was not without risks, as anyone would be suspicious were they to catch him roaming without a cause.

He had already run into Lord Leydarvatn when he was just about to go up the stairs, the latter excusing himself shortly from the ballroom to see to the refreshments. It made Klaus nervous beyond belief when his brother called out to him, the secret he harbored sitting heavily on his chest casting his forced smile in a dark shadow.

But Elijah surprised him, “I understand if you need some quiet time alone. These past days must have been wearing on you. Do not worry, I will cover for you in front of mother.”

Klaus frowned, something in Elijah’s tone alarming him, “you do not have to, brother. There is simply nothing to be covered for. I got bored, so I abandoned the ball. People can say whatever they want.”

“Niklaus…” Elijah seemed to be deliberating his words quite carefully in his mind, which was a rare occurrence on his part, for he had always been an eloquent man, quick and thorough in his responds, “sometimes I doubt if I made the right decision when I pleaded with you to stay. It was a selfish act on my part to keep our family whole, but I am starting to see that it may not be the best choice for you.”

“Ouch,” Klaus lightly snorted, half-smirk in place, “have I already outstayed my welcome?”

“You know well that was not what I meant.” Elijah sighed as he lowered his voice, his eyes fixed on Klaus’ face as if to gauge his reaction, “I saw the way you were with Lady Augustins.”

Klaus tensed immediately, but not for the reasons he was sure Elijah would have speculated, “and what, pray tell, is that?”

“Do not let her use you Niklaus. This life and…what it entails can be taxing, but you need not let them drag you down.”

“Believe me brother,” a small smile crept onto the corner of his lips, “she is hardly a dead weight.” Caroline was quite the opposite if he was speaking the whole truth.

Elijah studied him for a long quiet moment, before nodding pensively, if not a bit curious, “very well. I shall leave you to your own devices then.” Before turning to go back into the ball room he added with a smirk, “you have always been a trouble-maker, Niklaus. I would not expect anything less of you.”

Little did he know that Klaus’ trouble-making involved sneaking into Mikael’s old study and stealing the dragon ring that their family had treasured for generations. Klaus could not help but genuinely wonder what his reaction would be once he found out. Not if, once-of that Klaus was certain.

Although the maids came in to clean every day the room still had a deadly scent to it, as if something was decomposing in the darkest corner. Klaus had never cared for the room as he grew up-not that he had much chance to see the inside of it anyway. It was Mikael’s personal fort, and he only called his children in to scold them when they did something irrevocably wrong, throwing his brutal words at them behind his desk like a fully-armored general ordering the shooting of arrows on the city wall.

But that was no more. Klaus would attack his fortress from the inside out.

_The ring is hidden in a safe somewhere in the room. It may be under a certain disguise so check carefully._

Klaus searched around the room, repulsed by everything in his sight. From the eyes of a stranger it was probably just a normal study, big heavy desk and imposing book shelves with nothing out of place. But to Klaus the room was teeming with harsh memories that he would rather not reminisce for the rest of his life. They intrude into his view on each step of his hunt, reminding him that no matter how much he had grown, in Mikael’s territory he would risk being reduced to that scared little boy with all the resentment and confusion in the world but not a single outlet.

After getting nothing from the bookshelves he came to check the desk in the center of the room. There were the usual things, the quill, the ink-holder, the blotter, the bronze oval paperweight with a crow carved on the surface that Mikael once threw at his head, the dagger-shaped letter knife that Klaus had imagined countless times to stab Mikael with.

Klaus opened the drawer of the desk and the only thing in there was the quires of paper, foolscap watermark clear in place. He remembered once thinking that the silly crowns were in fact laughing at Mikael during one of his tirades, and the inconcealable grin that notion put on his face earned him a beating harder even than usual.

He closed the drawer and paced to the far end of the study, where a bronze shield was hanging on the wall. Among all the other despicable objects in the room this one Klaus hated the most. It was a favorite of Mikael’s, one he had polished regularly and despite it being an antique the surface glowed brightly like a looking glass in the moonlight. When he was around thirteen years Mikael had once dragged him in front of the shield and forced him to look inside like he was the abominable creature Medusa in the flesh.

“ _Look at yourself, boy._ ” To this day he could hear his vicious hiss, “ _look at that coward. That weakling. That is you, and nothing more._ ”

Without a falter in his step Klaus stalked to the shield and took it off with vengeful triumph. Just what he thought. Hidden behind it in the wall, was indeed the safe he had sought after.

_It would be locked, of course, but you can always find something handy to break the door. The thing I am concerned with is the alarm system that he must have built in. Once the door of the safe is broken by force, the alarm bells will go off. So be prepared-you will not have much time to leave the scene._

Klaus tried the door and it was locked, just like he and Caroline expected. Now he only needed a tool to break it into pieces.

His eyes landed on the closest corner of the room, and he realized that he was not wrong when he thought that something rotten continued to contaminate the room after Mikael’s death. There it was, in all its malicious glory, Mikael’s walking stick.

Klaus could not even remember the times it landed on Elijah, or Kol, but mostly himself. He once thought he would grow used to the pain, and he did, however burning and cutting it was, however long the wounds kept him up at night. But one thing he never did get used to was the weight of the vile thing. It was heavy from all the iron it was instilled with but it was so much more.

He had almost been regretful that the pain did not consume him every time that wretched object landed on his back. He could still sense his brother’s frantic eyes so Elijah’s guilt was on him. He could hear the cries of his sister, so Rebekah’s dread was on him also. And he could sense his mother’s slight flinches so that little discomfort was again on him-yes, that was all it was to her though, a discomfort, the kind you feel when you see in the distance a farmer whipping a cow.

That weight had been on his back for as long as he could remember, nearly breaking him, but not quite. And since he was spared after all, he was going to use it to break something of Mikael’s.

With fire in his eyes he grabbed the stick and swung it towards the safe, putting all of his strength into the strike. A loud crash later, there was no more sticks or doors, only splinters of wood lying on the floor in defeat.

When the alarm bells went off all around the house, Klaus was already inside the secret passage leading out that he had known by heart since childhood, with his pocket heavier by one ring, but his heart lighter than ever.

* * *

Klaus had many reasons to believe that he was verily inside a dream. Of his own or some other lunatic’s making, that he could not be sure-but he should think that his mind was not capable of conjuring up this amount of insanity.

Where did he even begin to list all the strange things that had happened to him in the few minutes after he broke Mikael’s safe? Everything went in a blur and now he was flying only god knows how many miles above ground, with the alarm bells still shrieking in his ears and the flames of his family stables in the far end of his sight.

How was there even a fire? Was that Caroline’s doing? Or it could be Lorenzo. The guests of the ball must have been in such a chaos that no one would have noticed his missing, probably not until tomorrow morning. But what would happen after that? Surely they would discover the steal by then and he was very much in need of a plan. He did not even know where he was going to land right now.

But the paramount question was: how did he end up on the back of a _dragon_?

In Klaus’ defense it all happened very fast. One minute he was running out of the secret tunnels wondering in his mind what Caroline meant by “I will see to it that you have a means of transport on your way of escape”, and the next the majestic creature just landed on the lawn right in front of him, smelling like fire and smoke. If Klaus were to be honest its huge scary eyes (or rather, _eye_ , because that was all he could see from his low standpoint) almost looked amused, probably due to the fact that he dropped down on his bottom so awkwardly in the blast of wind it stirred up.

Klaus was not done gaping when the dragon tapped the tip of its tail on the ground impatiently, making undoubtedly the whole part of land shake. Seeing that Klaus still did not understand its intentions, the dragon huffed another smoky breath, gesturing with its spiky head towards its lowered back before glaring at Klaus menacingly. Klaus had no choice but to scramble to his feet and climb on by way of its tail.

When the initial shock wore off, Klaus finally started to notice his surroundings. He had to admit that in spite of its scandalous reputation, the dragon looked beautiful in the moonlight. Its scales were of a bluish grey color, but if he stared in the right angle he could see the special shine to the surface, as if they were gilded in gold. Like when he turned his head to the back, its long tail appeared to be a golden river flowing in the darkness of the night sky. Unlike its head and tail, which were covered in hard thorns, the back of the dragon was quite smooth, cold under his touch, with a leathery feel to it.

But the most magnificent thing was its wings. Spread out beside its body, the wide organs flapped in a motion so elegant and regal, the exquisite rhythm reminding him of one of the concertos of Johann Sebastian Bach. The skin of the wings was thin as veil, almost transparent when they lifted up to block the moon from his sight.

It all still felt so surreal to Klaus. They were apparently out of the borders of his family’s estate, and were now flying above the vast, night-befallen country land. The fields of crops and little cottages scattered around were barely visible, shrouded in the still of the darkness. The heaven seemed much closer to him than the land of the living, for he could see in his eyes more stars than human lights.

The only thing proving to him that he was not trapped in an illusion was the small hardness in his waistcoat. Klaus reached in to pull the ring out, examining it with critical eyes. Even at night the ruby had such a blinding gleam to it, impossible to ignore for anyone in its presence. That was the ring that Mikael had shown to Elijah, the ring that the vicious man held so tightly in his pathetic vice grip. In that moment Klaus had the sudden urge to throw the ring into the vastness below. Let it bring some meager joy to whomever Mikael would have deemed beneath him.

But he had already promised the ring to Caroline, so he settled for an impromptu baring of his for once free heart, “You have no hold on me!” He leaned back to shout at the sky, “do you hear me you old imp?”

Not even an echo sounded in his ears, just the wind flowing swiftly by. With a rueful smile Klaus put the ring back into his pocket, “what a fool I am. Of course you do not.” He gave the heaven above him one more glance, “you would not be there.”

Suddenly the dragon arched its back with so much strength Klaus was instantly thrown into midair. Fear gripped his heart as he tumbled in nothingness, no longer able to tell above from below. It was all a mix of darkness and silver streaks of light, and the dragon seemed to have disappeared into thin air.

Klaus felt himself starting to fall, the speed picking up with each passing second. _Was this it_? He should be grateful-he was finally out of the prison that he was trapped in for his short life, out of his own doing as much as others’. But all he could think of at this moment was that he did not even get to see another sunrise as a free man.

_It could even be a sunrise seen from dragon-back._

However, as sudden as it started, the dragon swooped in from under him, taking him again on its back in its way of ascent. Klaus struggled to sit up straight, his heart beating wildly in his chest, in his ears, in his muscles and skin, until the whole world was nothing if not his own deafening heartbeats.

The relief and epiphany ensued, rushing through his veins like small doses of lightening, making his body sparkling all around in overwhelming sensations. He was so close to death. But he was also so close to all things opposite to death, all things that can never be claimed by death, things that shine tenaciously on the precipice of mortality like splashes of golden daffodils.

Out of the blue, Klaus started to laugh. A loud, rich, resounding laugh that he had not experienced in years. He shook his head at the dragon although he knew it could not see him, “I appreciate the neat trick, mate. But next time maybe a little head warning would be nice.”

The dragon- _heaven forbid_ -rolled its eyes at him. And there was definitely a snort and a few sparks of fire coming out of its nose.

Somehow Klaus understood its annoyance perfectly. Bending down on its back, he reached over to gently caress its neck, his voice warm as his hand, “my apologies, _sweetheart_.”

 _She_ was, apparently, satisfied enough not to give a response.

Not long after that they landed on the bank of a small lake. The dragon crouched there silently giving Klaus access from its tail onto the lawn. The second his legs hit the ground Klaus realized how weak they really were, and that was when he noticed his whole body was shivering all over, half in excitement and half in the residues of fright.

He stood still for a moment, taking a few long breaths to compose himself before he cautiously dragged his heavy legs to see what the dragon was doing. To Klaus’ utter surprise, he found her facing a small bush of wild roses by the lake, where a single red rose was just sprouting its delicate bud, wavering slightly in the summer breeze.

Klaus watched in fascination as the dragon carefully folded her wings away from the rose, sticking her nose slowly in the direction as close as possible, but not touching. She tentatively took a shallow whiff, and immediately tilted her head to the side as if to make sure that her breath did not hurt the little flower. Then finally, she half closed her eyes and slowly drew a long, deep breath, her eyelids trembling in bliss as a soft, deep hum flowed from her chest.

In that very moment, everything clicked in Klaus’ mind.

He only knew one person-or one _dragon_ , who smelled a rose in a gesture that could melt his heart.

And person or dragon, he would not let her go.

* * *

When Lord Augustins finally came through the door of the drawing room to Whitmore Park, his family estate, Klaus had already become quite the expert on all matters concerning dragons, or rather, _the_ dragon.

He knew what she fed on (human food was fine by her while she stayed in her human form, but when she transformed she sometimes go hunt a sheep or two); what her disposition was as a dragon (dragon Caroline was much more temperamental than human Caroline, as Klaus had experienced); how far she could fly (for _months_ -she measured that by time, not distance); what her dragon name was (it sounded surprisingly similar to Caroline, with a few strange consonants he could not pronounce, but her family name was Forbes translated into human language).

He also learned her history with the Mikaelson family, although that part Klaus could have mostly guessed by himself. Like what he thought, the dragon ring was taken by the Mikaelson dragon slayers from Caroline when she was still very young and defenseless, but she managed to escape their ruthless swords. She spent several centuries roaming the continent before coming back here about two decades ago, and had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to get her ring back ever since.

Klaus had asked her why she was still fixed on the ring after so many years, to which Caroline answered with a smirk and a pointed look, “we are very possessive creatures, Klaus. That ring was my first collection. The moment I laid my eyes on that ruby, I fell in love with it. And I never let go of anything that I have my eyes on.”

They were idly talking about Caroline’s transforming magic (she did just step out of the steams fully clothed a few hours ago) when Lorenzo stepped into the room, “I see you two had an uneventful night. Sadly the same could not be said about me.”

Caroline immediately got up to her feet and rushed to hug him, “Lorenzo! Are you alright? Did they get suspicious?”

Lorenzo brought her in closer and kissed her gently on the cheek, all the while smirking at a fuming Klaus, “calm down, my lady. They barely had time to process anything yet. First there was the _accidental_ fire…”

“Please tell me you saved the horses as we had agreed on!” Caroline jumped out of his embrace, staring at him inquisitively.

Lorenzo rolled his eyes at her, “really? You left me at the crime scene of you and your beau here,” he stuck his chin out towards Klaus before continuing, “and the first thing you ask about is the horses? Have you no heart?”

Caroline merely snorted, “do not be so sensitive. It is nothing personal.” A smirk danced on her lips, “the horses are just much more innocent in this than you ever will be.”

“Guilty as charged.” Lorenzo gave a playful salute, “and relax, I set them free long before you unleashed hell’s fire on that poor little stable. They did not even run far-a few had already been found by the time I bid them farewell.”

Klaus frowned at that, “how _did_ you get out of the house party?”

“I am so touched that you are concerned about my well-being, Mr. Mikaelson.” Lorenzo stalked over with Caroline in tow, sitting on the sofa beside Klaus, “but I had some solid excuses. For one, the fire gave everyone quite a scare, and I was not the only guest who wished to go home and ‘calm my nerves’. But unlike other guests, I had also recently suffered the loss of a personal matter…” he chuckled at that and already Klaus had a sinister feeling up his spine, “since my lovely wife here chose to elope with one of the Mikaelson brothers last night.”

“I beg your pardon?” Klaus’ eyes almost fell out of their sockets. Of all the reasons he could have made up for Caroline’s and his absence he had to go with _that_.

“Oh pray do not fret.” Lorenzo waved a hand, “if it is any consolation, Lord Leydarvatn did not even seem that surprised. He was more concerned that I would take some drastic measures towards you. Although Lady Rebekah had quite a few…unorthodox choice of words for you.”

Klaus sighed at that. Given the last conversation he had with Elijah his reaction was not unexpected, though his concern for him still warmed his heart. And Rebekah was just…being Rebekah.

“And Mr. Mikaelson, well, the younger one, was kind enough to comfort this heartbroken husband for a few hours. I told him that I would rather not stay and be reminded of my wife’s betrayal, to which he showed the utmost understanding.” Lorenzo went on with the most solemn tone, but then his brows furrowed in thought, “though come to think of it, I did get a feeling that he was merely playing along.”

Before Klaus could respond to that, Caroline surprised them both by smacking Lorenzo on the back of his head, “you clown! Do not pretend that you were not doing this for your own fun.”

“How very unladylike of you, Lady Augustins!” Lorenzo faked a shocked face, “and you have to admit it was a decent lie. It was rather believable given the behaviors of you two in the past few days-anyone with only one good eye could have predicted it. So they would never trace the stealing back to us.”

Caroline huffed, a few stray curls bouncing along her flushed neck, “how is eloping, or being _cuckolded_ , better than stealing?”

“It is not.” Lorenzo shrugged, “but is that not the best part?”

Caroline was still glaring at him, but her eyes were already softened by the smile that she was trying hard to hold in. The same could be said about Klaus. Not even a day ago, he would probably have been furious at Lorenzo’s conducts, but now-maybe it was letting go of some of his burdens, or the seconds of floating just short of death-he was starting to grasp the hilarity of the whole thing.

Before they knew it, they were laughing uncontrollably together, and Lorenzo went to retrieve a bottle of wine and three glasses with a spring to his steps.

Seconds later, they each had a glass in hand.

“Look at us,” Lorenzo swiveled the wine, his head slightly tilted to the side, “an unscrupulous rake,” he gestured to Klaus and got a playful bow in return, “a convenient strumpet-” he then tipped his glass to Caroline, who rolled her eyes at him.

“-and an oaf.” She finished the last part for him.

Surprisingly it was Klaus who gave the toast, “to being notorious.” He winked at Caroline before they all drank to that.

Another glass later, tired from the chaos of a day, Lorenzo bid them good night. Despite the ups-and-downs of past hours, Klaus still felt very much awake, and he put down his own glass to give Caroline a once-over, “I did not get a chance to tell you how stunning you looked tonight.”

She was still in her white tulle gown from the ball, the golden French embroidery along the sleeves and neckline shining against the alcohol-induced flush of her skin. And the smile on her face was infectious, making her whole aura glow quietly. Upon hearing his compliment, her smile grew deeper, “you have good eyes. This is my favorite gown. I thought I would wear it for the special occasion.”

Klaus shook his head, “indeed the gown look ravishing on you. But I was talking about earlier. You were simply glorious, _sweetheart_.”

Realization dawned on Caroline as her cheeks blushed furiously, “only you could flirt with an anonymous dragon.”

“I would hardly call you anonymous, Caroline. After all our families have been acquaintances for centuries. And I promise I would always flirt with you, in any shape or form.” Klaus took out the ring that was still resting in his pocket and placed it in Caroline’s palm, “Please take this as a token of my ineffable admiration.”

“Again gifting me with my own things?” Caroline raised an eyebrow at him, “I am afraid this would become a habit of yours.”

“It could be,” Klaus tucked the few strands of hair behind her ear, planting a gentle kiss just beneath her earlobe, “if I stick around long enough.”

Caroline nuzzled into him for a few moments before taking his hand, “let us put your token somewhere safe then, if there are bound to be more to come.”

“Somewhere safe” turned out to be her vault. Klaus should not be surprised-it was but the equivalence of a cave in modern ages. What surprised him was the amount of precious-looking paintings, antiques, dresses and even tomes of books lining the walls and filling the shelves. He stood agape in the center of the grand hall, not sure where to put his eyes first.

Putting the ring inside a jewelry box on one of the shelves, Caroline looked back at him, grinning, “do not take the little trait of our species so literal. We do care much for the shiny objects, but our definition of that word could be quite different from what people would think.” She ambled back to his side, tenderly caressing his cheek, “the gleam of treasure speaks not to mere eyes, but to heart and soul.”

Klaus held her hand in his and placed a kiss inside her palm, “I just did not expect you would have such an impressive vault at Whitmore of all places.”

Caroline smirked, “still jealous of that, are we?” She proceeded to take him for a small tour to the other end of the hall, “the old Lord and Lady Augustins passed away rather early. Lorenzo, as a dear friend, and the new Lord, offered me a place to stay for a few years. And if I ever decide to part with this place for a long period of time, I would be fine with leaving these to his offspring.”

“You seem unusually close to him, even as a friend.” It was hard to keep the slight irritation out of his words, and Caroline was quick to catch it.

“Lorenzo ran into me by accident when he was still a little boy.” Caroline ran her thumb soothingly along his knuckles, her eyes soft with nostalgia, “I watched him grow up, every step of the way. So our friendship does not always fit into the common connotations.”

Klaus knew he was being petty, but an insistent thought kept eating at his covetous mind. He was around the same age as Lorenzo, and the estates of their families were not that far apart to begin with. Delusional or not, he could hardly stop himself from picturing meeting with Caroline, and getting close to her much earlier.

As if reading his thoughts, Caroline chuckled, “Lorenzo happened to venture into my cave at the time when I first met him. He tripped on a rock and fell. I can still remember those cries-they were resounding so loud in the cave I thought I would go deaf. I had to blow tiny flames in the air to cheer him up.” She rolled her eyes a little, “somehow I doubt you would want that.”

Klaus had to laugh at that, “you have a point. But still, I wish I had met you sooner.” He turned his head aside to hide the wistful look in his eyes, but Caroline cupped his cheek and forced him to look at her right in the eyes.

“However curious I am about your disposition as a child or a younger man, I prefer you as you are now.”

“Jaded?” Klaus offered with a wry smile.

Caroline shook her head, “with fear.” She reached up to ease the frown forming between his brows, “there is nothing more fascinating than a man facing his demons. And winning.”

Klaus grinned cheekily, stealing a kiss from her rosy lips that he had been staring at all night, “I do like winning.”

Caroline licked her lips reminiscently for a second before snorting, “of course you do. If anything, that smugness of yours I could do without.”

“Liar.” Klaus leaned down to nip at her earlobe, satisfied at the gasps escaping out of her mouth, “you enjoy it just fine.”

“Perhaps.” Caroline broke away from him, a devilish glint in her eyes as she pushed open a side door behind them, pulling Klaus in with her, “but I would rather you prove it to me one more time.”

Klaus gaped at the room piled with nothing but gold coins. Lit up by the candlelight, the golden glimmers swam in his vision like the busiest bees, buzzing in his head making him dizzy and disoriented. So he solely focused on Caroline instead, on her blonde hair that only seemed to glow more potently in the sea of gold, on her fiery blue eyes that were melting all the gold to liquid in their drowning depths.

He circled her waist suddenly and brought her lower body flush against his, grinding at her center while smirking at the way her eyes instantly turned glassy from arousal, “I thought you said that it was not literal?”

Caroline moaned against his neck, “sometimes I still indulge in a little simple, old-fashioned delight.” She fell back onto the piles of gold with a sigh, pulling Klaus down with her, “I am sure you could relate to the sentiment.”

“But would you not get distracted?” Klaus grabbed a handful of coins and rained them on her half-bared breasts, watching them heaving and trembling with a teasing smile.

“How could I,” Caroline smiled back at him, lust hazy on her face, adoration clear in her eyes and all the gold in the room paled in comparison, “when _you_  shine so brightly?”


End file.
